


By the Seaside

by shoebox_addict



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Day At The Beach, First Kiss, Full Moon, Hogwarts Astronomy Tower, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Sirius Black's Prank on Severus Snape, Summer, Welsh Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2020-11-27 00:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20938982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoebox_addict/pseuds/shoebox_addict
Summary: In the wake of 'The Prank,' Sirius visits Wales with Remus over the summer.





	By the Seaside

**Author's Note:**

> Team: Journey  
Prompt: “People don't take trips, trips take people.” ~ John Steinbeck

_June 1975_

Sirius stared into the distance, then closed his eyes as a cool evening breeze ruffled his hair, stray strands tickling his cheeks. Exams were over, and soon his days would consist of nothing much at all. The summer holiday lay before him, a blank slate with just one certainty -- he would not be at Grimmauld Place. James had returned from Christmas break with an invitation from his parents. Sirius had been overjoyed, but that was tempered now by the realization that he wouldn’t see Remus again until September. 

He turned his head from the breeze to stare at Remus, who stood beside him, cigarette between his lips. Remus drew his hand away from his mouth and blew a steady stream of smoke into the night air. Either he didn’t notice Sirius staring at him, or he was pretending not to notice. They were in the Astronomy Tower, far above the grounds where they’d sat hours earlier to revel in the end of exams. For months now, the Tower had been their spot, a tradition that had an inauspicious beginning. Their first time meeting there had been all shouting and tears, the first time they’d spoken since Sirius had sent Snape to see the wolf.

Now Sirius stared at Remus, marveling at the difference eight months could make. They were nearly back to normal; there were still stutters, words spoken more tersely than intended, but they were making progress. Sirius had been so grateful when Remus had met him on the Tower that first time, that cold night in November. He was grateful every time Remus returned, to talk, to share a cigarette, or sometimes just to sit together. Even when there was snow on the Tower and a fierce northerly wind, Remus had come to meet him. 

Sirius was grateful to James, too, and his parents, for the invitation to spend summer at their house. But now that he was staring the summer holiday in the face, the reality of being away from Remus for so long was hitting him hard. What if that time apart undid all their progress?

“I wish you wouldn’t do those things to Snape,” said Remus, passing the cigarette to Sirius. “Hanging him upside down and whatnot.”

“I know,” said Sirius, taking a long drag. 

“It’s just...don’t you think they’d do that sort of thing to me? If you and James weren’t around, I mean?”

Sirius scoffed. “They wouldn’t dare. You don’t need me or James, you can hold your own with those wankers.”

Remus shrugged and waved away the cigarette when Sirius offered it to him. “It just makes things worse, doesn’t it? Not to mention…”

Sirius took another drag, leaning back against the parapet. “What? Not to mention what?”

Remus sighed and rubbed at his forehead. “He knows about me. If we keep taunting him, he might decide that getting expelled is a small price to pay for getting me thrown out too.”

Sirius tried to push away the sick feeling that bloomed in his stomach. This hadn’t occurred to him, and that was the root of his problem, wasn’t it? He was trying to stop and think about things more often, but it felt like fighting a losing battle against his brain, which always wanted to barrel ahead. 

“He wouldn’t dare,” he said, flicking ash over the side of the tower. “Dumbledore would kill him.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “I doubt Dumbledore would kill a student. Especially not when attempted murder is the root of this whole issue.”

Before responding, Sirius stopped and thought, because what he wanted to do was protest that he hadn’t been _trying_ to murder Snape. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. He’d only been trying to teach him a lesson for being so bloody nosy and such a nuisance. But he’d already said that, and he knew that Remus didn’t care what his intentions had been. 

“Right,” he said. “Anyway, I’ll talk to James about it.”

Remus gave him a dubious look and stole the cigarette from him. “I doubt you’ll find the time to mention it when you’re sunning yourselves, or whatever it is you plan to do this summer.”

He said it teasingly, with a half smile, so Sirius knew he wasn’t too upset. “Laugh if you like, but I do plan to be bronzed and beautiful when we meet you at King’s Cross.”

Remus blew smoke in his face. “We’ll see. Even if you avoid burning yourselves to a crisp, the lovely weather up here will have you pale again in no time.”

Sirius laughed and leaned back against the parapet, rough stone digging into his elbows. “Y’know, you could join us. Then you wouldn’t have to wait for the grand reveal at the start of term.”

“You know I can’t,” said Remus, stubbing out the cigarette. “I spent Christmas here, with you, so my parents want to see me. Besides, there’s a full moon in a week. I can’t be at James’ house for that, now can I?”

“Come afterward,” said Sirius. “Go and see your parents for a bit, and then come see us. Would they really miss you? Just for a few weeks?”

Remus sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “They like to see me, make sure I’m all right. Besides, I like going home for the summer. I see you idiots for most of the year, I could use a break.”

Again, Sirius noted the half smile playing around Remus’ lips. He didn’t really mean that last bit. But Sirius did know how much Remus enjoyed his summers at home. It had been one of the many things about Remus that Sirius couldn’t comprehend when they’d first met. What could be so great about going home for the summer? Of course, that was before Sirius realized there were different kinds of families, families in which no one yelled much at all and parents were kind to their children. But even if he hadn’t liked his parents, Remus happened to be in love with Wales.

Sirius remembered asking Remus one morning in first year why he sounded different from himself or James. Remus explained to him that his dad was from Wales, and that they’d lived there all his life. When Sirius -- ignorant little toerag that he’d been -- had made a face, Remus pointed out that Peter spoke differently too because he was from Yorkshire, and that there were more places in the world besides central London. Thoroughly embarrassed, Sirius had spent that evening in the library, reading a book about magical Britain in an attempt to learn more about Wales. 

Sirius was caught between not wanting to be annoying about this and really wanting to see Remus over the summer. He understood that his parents worried while he was away, and he didn’t want to keep him from his favorite place on earth. But something in his chest ached when he thought about being away from him until September. 

“Even so,” he said. “Won’t you miss us?”

Remus took a very long time to respond. He stared out at the grounds, out toward the lake where they could see tentacles rising up and drifting gently back below the surface. Sirius used to hate silence in any conversation, but he’d learned to enjoy silence with Remus. He could never sit with James and not say anything. One of them would jump in with a joke or something stupid to make the other laugh. That was fine, that was part of his friendship with James. But spending time with Remus this year had made him appreciate a different kind of friendship, one with pauses in which you could perhaps appreciate the way the wind lifted the light brown hair up from your mate’s face. Perhaps. 

“Fine, then,” Remus said at last. “Why don’t you come with me?”

“I...what?”

“Come and see Wales,” said Remus, trying very hard to sound casual about the invitation. “You always ask me about it, why don’t you see it for yourself?” 

Sirius chewed his lip. His instinct was to say no, as he would surely be an imposition. Remus didn’t really want his stupid friend hanging around when he wanted to relax for the summer. How would he introduce Sirius to his parents? _Mum and dad -- this is Sirius, he nearly caused me to kill a fellow student this year. But other than that he’s all right, I promise._

As though he could read Sirius’ mind, Remus reached out to nudge his shoulder. “Hey. I want you to come, honestly. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t mean it. But don’t feel like you have to.” 

“No, erm, I want to,” said Sirius. His mouth was so dry all of a sudden. Maybe he should quit smoking. 

Remus smiled at him. “All right, it’s settled.” 

Sirius felt like his brain was on fire. He wouldn’t have to be away from Remus at all. Relief and worry and excitement all flared up in his chest until he wasn’t sure which feeling to concentrate on. He turned his head ever so slightly so he could watch Remus staring out at the grounds, the wind causing his fringe to flare out over his forehead. Somehow the sight quieted Sirius’ brain, if only for the moment.

* * * * * *

The final days of term flew by, exam results were received, and the closing feast was had. Sirius kept catching Remus looking at him, and then hurriedly turning away when he was caught. As soon as he’d accepted Remus’ invitation, Sirius had asked James if he could join him a few weeks late. James had said that was perfectly fine and fixed him with a knowing grin. It was the same grin he’d given him when Remus had announced he’d be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas, saying he was too tired to travel after the full moon. It made sense, of course, that James would suspect something. He’d always been frighteningly able to read Sirius’ mind, so he must know about the New and Confusing Feelings. Mercifully, he did not address those feelings directly.

There was no time to discuss the trip as they packed up their things and headed down to the train. Sirius walked alongside James but kept glancing back to where Remus ambled beside Peter. He was giving off a nervous energy, all spindly limbs and darting eyes. Sirius wanted nothing more than to talk to him, to try and settle them both, but he didn’t get a chance until halfway through a game of Exploding Snap, halfway to London.

When Remus lost the game, narrowly avoiding losing his eyebrows, he said he needed some air. Fifteen seconds later, unable to wait a more respectable amount of time, Sirius slipped out of the compartment with a similar excuse. He determinedly did not look back, lest he receive more suspicious grinning from James. 

Remus was at the very back of the train, wedged against the railing where you could see the fields and trees they were rapidly leaving behind. It was like the astronomy tower, Sirius told himself. The only thing missing was a cigarette, and he didn’t have any on him. He sidled up to Remus and cleared his throat noisily, not wanting to startle him. 

“Oh, hey,” said Remus, nodding to him and turning around. 

“Hiya,” said Sirius, hands shoved in his pockets.

“So it’s about three and a half hours from the station to our house,” said Remus. His neck was slightly flushed, creeping up to his cheeks. “Sorry it’s so far.”

“No, that’s fine,” said Sirius, shaking his head. “I don’t mind. Erm, anything I should know about your dad before I spend three hours with him?”

It had occurred to him several days earlier that he knew very little about Remus’ parents. He knew of their existence, he knew their names, and he’d said ‘hello’ to them once or twice at King’s Cross. Beyond that he was seized with panic about having to chat with them, and he was desperate to make a good first impression. 

Remus chuckled. “He used to work for the Ministry. Now he’s got his own business where he gets magical pests out of people’s houses. He loves television. Remember I told you about television?”

Sirius nodded. “And your mum?”

“She works at a Muggle office,” said Remus. “She’s got this amazing record collection, and she’s the one who got me into reading. She’ll be at work when we get to the house, but she’ll be home for dinner.” 

Again, Sirius nodded. “I’m probably going to be rubbish at this. Sorry in advance.”

“Rubbish at what?”

“At...I dunno, meeting them and making conversation.”

“Come off it,” said Remus, rolling his eyes. “You’re dripping with charm, I think you’ll do fine.”

Sirius grinned at him and swept his hair back in a move that he knew for a fact he pulled off much better than James ever would. “Dripping with charm, me? Why, I’m flattered.”

Now Remus was definitely blushing, a rather fetching shade of red brushed across his cheekbones. He rolled his eyes again and shook his head. “Oh, shut up. We should get back.”

Though their conversation made Sirius feel a bit better, it did nothing to calm Remus. As they drew nearer to London, he bounced his left leg up and down and chewed at his fingernails. Sirius wanted to take his hand to stop him gnawing his fingers to nubs. He banished that thought quickly, preferring not dwell on it. 

When they arrived at King’s Cross, everyone flooded off the train in a massive rush toward months without having to think about school. The four of them hung back, waiting for the overeager first and second years to clear out of the way. Then they grabbed their trunks and emerged onto the chaotic platform. 

“There’s mum and dad,” said Peter, waving to his parents. “I’ll see you guys next year!”

“Have a good summer, Pete!” said James. “I see my parents over there. Guess this is it.”

Sirius nodded to him. “I’ll see in a few weeks.”

James pulled him into a one-armed hug. “Have fun in Wales. Write me lots of letters or else I’ll worry, you know me.” 

“See you next year,” said Remus, stooping slightly to hug him. 

“Take care of him,” said James. “Ah, who am I kidding? He’ll be fine, it’s Wales you should be protecting. See ya!”

James backed away from them, waving both his hands, and nearly tripped over his own trunk. He caught himself and tried to look nonchalant just as Lily Evans walked past. She smirked at him, which sent James into a panicked spiral, and then he really did trip over his own trunk. As he set himself to rights, Sirius let out a bark of laughter, prompting James to flip him off as he marched away with his trunk. 

“There’s my dad,” said Remus, pointing toward a tall, solidly built man whose hair was the exact shade of brown that Remus’ was. He had Remus’ nose, too, and there was something about his posture that so matched his son’s that Remus really needn’t have pointed him out. 

Sirius had just enough time to panic as they made their way across the platform. He tried to calm himself, not wanting to say anything stupid. 

“Right,” said Remus. “Dad, this is Sirius. Sirius, this is my dad.”

“Hello, Mr. Lupin,” said Sirius, hand held out, back straight as a board. 

“Well, why so formal, Sirius?” said Mr. Lupin, grinning. “You can call me Lyall, and there’s no need for that.”

As Sirius put his hand down, embarrassed, Lyall pulled him into a hug. Sirius blinked, taken aback. He hadn’t been one for hugs before coming to Hogwarts -- or perhaps he simply hadn’t received many. When James’ mum had pulled him close on the platform at the start of their second year, he’d nearly burst into tears. Now he was more accustomed to them, but this particular hug was still surprising. 

“We’re so pleased to have you staying with us,” said Lyall, stepping back. “Now, Remus tells me you haven’t been in a car before?”

“Er, no,” said Sirius. “My family…”

“Ah, there’s no need to explain,” he said, waving him away. “Some people feel a bit ill in cars, so I just wanted to warn you about that. Let me know if you’re feeling sick, and we’ll stop.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“Now, have you both got your trunks? Shall we head off, then?”

Sirius grabbed the handle of his trunk and caught Remus’ eye as they followed his dad to the car. Remus smiled apologetically and shrugged his shoulders as though to say _sorry he’s coming on so strong._ But Sirius shook his head, hopefully conveying that there was nothing to apologize for -- he liked Lyall already. 

Though Remus had told him their family car was rather cheap, Sirius thought it was brilliant. It had nifty little headlights at the front, and it was a sort of sea green, except for the top bit, which was white. They loaded their trunks into the back of the car, which Lyall called ‘the boot,’ and then climbed inside the car themselves. As soon as Sirius heard the engine turn over, he was smitten and frankly upset that the concept of motor vehicles had been kept from him. What would it take, he wondered, to get one for himself?

“It’ll be a few hours before we’re even out of England,” said Lyall, steering his way through London traffic with ease. “But you’ll get some beautiful views along the way.”

Remus twisted around in his seat at the front, craning his neck to give Sirius a concerned look. “Are you all right?”

“Are you joking?” said Sirius, grinning as they passed by Regent’s Park. “This is brilliant.”

Remus smiled at him and seemed to relax a bit. But Sirius could still see the tension in his shoulders as they made their way out of the city. No one seemed to know what to say, and the quiet in the car was becoming deafening. Sirius was sure they wouldn’t pass the whole journey this way, but he didn’t know where to begin. In the end, Lyall took care of that for them. 

“We missed Remus at Christmas this year, but he insisted on staying behind to keep you company.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Remus’ shoulders draw up nearly to his ears. For a moment, he wasn’t sure how to respond to this confirmation of James’ suspicion -- Remus had lied about why he stayed behind. Obviously the car at large didn’t need to know about this, so Sirius filed it away for obsessive examination at a later date. 

“Yeah, I wasn’t able to go home this year,” he said.

“And how was your term?” Lyall asked. 

“Oh, fine,” said Sirius, wanting to make a good impression and deciding the best way to do that was by forgoing any mention of puddings down trousers or toads in the library. This meant he didn’t have much to say about school, so he grasped at the first thing that came to his mind. “Remus tells me you like television. I’ve never seen it, I’m afraid. What do you like to watch?” 

“Oh, you’re in for it now,” said Remus, chuckling. 

“My boy, you don’t know what you’re missing,” said Lyall. “I never knew about television, obviously, but Hope -- that’s my wife -- she introduced me to it, and I’ve never looked back. Let me tell you what happened on 'Coronation Street' while you were away, Remus.”

That did the trick, and Sirius quietly patted himself on the back for getting everyone talking. For it seemed that Lyall could expound endlessly about Lynn Johnson’s murder, and the marriage of Ray and Deirdre, and all sorts of other plots for which Sirius had no context. But the way Lyall went on about the program reminded him of how Remus talked about his books, and it was fun to hear Remus rib his dad the way Sirius usually ribbed him 

“I bet mum’s sorry she ever showed you how to work a telly,” said Remus, grinning. 

“You’d be mighty sorry if we didn’t have one, Mr. Monty Python,” said Lyall. “Sirius, you’ve got to have Remus tell you about Monty Python, all right? Oh, look now. We’re coming up on the River Severn.”

Up ahead, Sirius could see a long bridge that stretched into the distance. They’d been moving slowly in central London, but now Sirius was fairly impressed by the car’s speed. If he opened the window and closed his eyes, he could pretend he was on a broomstick. He slid to the left side of the bench seat and stared out the window, admiring the view of the river and the puffy white clouds hanging above them. He glanced back to the front seat where Remus was staring out his own window, on the opposite side of the car. He nearly leaned forward, the better to see Remus’ face, but he didn’t want Lyall to see him ogling his son. 

“Just like that, back on Welsh soil,” said Lyall, and Sirius could hear the grin in his voice.

Remus turned to his dad and smiled, beautiful and carefree and something Sirius couldn’t recall seeing before. “Now summer can begin.”

* * * * * *

The latter half of their journey was taken up by Remus trying to explain "Monty Python’s Flying Circus" to Sirius. It was a very hard thing to explain, apparently, because Remus kept stopping halfway through and then starting again. Sirius was resigned to never quite understanding the program, especially since Remus told him it had ended. But it was fun to listen to Remus try and explain things, so Sirius didn’t mind much.

Eventually they left the motorway and began making their way through Swansea, which Lyall explained was their nearest city. About half an hour outside the city, after traveling through more rural areas, they pulled up outside a modest cottage surrounded by golden fields. Sirius stepped out of the car and took in the stone exterior and sloping roof. The front door was painted red, as were the shutters on the windows. 

“Welcome,” said Remus, appearing suddenly at his side. “Home is home, however poor it is.”

“Don’t say that, it’s a really lovely house.”

Remus smiled at him. “It’s just an old saying.” 

Lyall let them inside and they dragged their trunks across the threshold. As Sirius walked into the house, he mentally cataloged bits of it to picture later when Remus told stories at school. He could imagine Remus sitting on the couch with his dad, watching telly. He could imagine him at the kitchen table with his mother, drinking tea and talking. He quickly stopped this line of thinking as they approached Remus’ bedroom. There was Remus’ bed, and Sirius tried to remind himself that he regularly saw where Remus slept at Hogwarts, but this felt so much more intimate. 

“I know it’s a bit weird,” said Remus. “But we don’t have a guest room or anything, so do you mind sleeping on my floor? Dad said he’ll conjure up a mattress for you, but there isn’t room for much in here.”

“That’s fine, of course,” said Sirius, waving him off. He pulled his trunk around to the other side of Remus’ bed, trying not to stare too intently at his bookshelves and crate full of records. “We sleep in the same room at school. Shouldn’t be any different here.” 

Remus made a noncommittal sound and crossed the room to shove open his window. He perched on the windowsill, staring out at the golden grass swaying in the breeze. Sirius tried to sidle up to him, but it was difficult to sidle in combat boots. 

Remus looked up as he approached. “I know it’s not much.”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing for everything,” said Sirius. “I was flattered when you invited me, and I’m excited to be here. Honestly.”

Remus smiled but stayed quiet, and Sirius thought this might be a moment he should seize. He should say something now, about how he kept wanting to steal glimpses of Remus and take his hand. And about how he thought maybe something was going on, but he wasn’t quite sure what. But he’d only just arrived, and he didn’t want to make things unnecessarily awkward for the next few weeks. 

“My dad really likes you,” said Remus, breaking the silence. “But don’t let him bully you into watching Coronation Street.”

“What if I want to see what happens with Ray and Deirdre?”

Remus chuckled. “It’s your funeral.”

Later that evening, Remus’ mum came home from work. She had lots of dark blonde hair that was gathered up on top of her head, secured in place with a tortoise shell clip. Though she looked exhausted, she greeted Sirius with a warm smile and an even warmer hug. 

“We’re so glad to have you,” she said, in an accent much closer to Sirius’ than to Remus’ or his dad’s. “Remus talks about you all the time, I feel as though we’ve already met.”

“I talk about James and Peter too, mum,” Remus protested.

“Well, of course,” said Hope. “I only meant that I’m glad to put a face to all those stories. Now, what’s for dinner?” 

They all sat around the small wooden dining table in the cottage’s cramped kitchen. Lyall had made a roast chicken, and the oven had overheated the room. Hope hurried around the cottage, opening every window in an attempt to air the place out. The food was delicious, and the cool evening air gradually seeped indoors so that, by the time they were having tea and biscuits, they were no longer sweating. 

“Gosh,” said Hope, glancing at her watch. “I should really turn in, I need to be up for work tomorrow morning.”

“I’ll join you,” said Lyall. “Stay up as late as you like, boys, so long as you keep things quiet.”

Hope dropped a kiss on the top of Remus’ head and squeezed Sirius’ shoulder as she walked past. Then they were alone in the kitchen, and Sirius had no idea what to say. They’d all talked over dinner about Hogwarts and the trip back from King’s Cross. But now that it was getting darker, and the reality of their sleeping situation loomed ever larger, Sirius was at a loss for conversation topics.

“I think I’ll turn in as well,” said Remus, draining the last drops from his teacup. “But don’t feel like you need to.”

“Oh, no, it’s...I’ll join you,” said Sirius. “I mean, I won’t join you, literally. I’ll be...I’ll be in the bed beside your bed. Just like at school.”

Remus gave him a funny look, and then turned away to leave his cup in the sink. This gave Sirius just enough time to clutch at his hair and silently berate himself for being such an idiot. Then he followed Remus to his room, where new challenges presented themselves. Remus stripped off his t-shirt and jeans without a shred of self-consciousness, and Sirius did his best not to stare. He saw this very same sight all the time -- at the full moon, in the mornings when they were all sharing the bathroom. He’d somehow remained calm then, so what was making that so difficult now? 

Sirius pulled the shade down over Remus’ window and waited for him to climb into bed. When he leaned over to grab a book from his nightstand, Sirius got undressed in record time and slid beneath his duvet. By the time Remus turned back, Sirius was nestled into bed and hard at work pretending that everything was fine. 

“What do you think of Wales so far?” Remus asked him, an odd look on his face. 

“Lovely, from what I’ve seen,” said Sirius. “Mind you, most of what I’ve seen has been the inside of your house. But it is a lovely house.”

“Would you like to see the sea tomorrow?”

“That’d be brilliant,” said Sirius. He’d only ever been to the sea with his family, mostly at their summer estate in the south of France. Those weren’t exactly cherished memories, so he’d be more than happy to replace them. 

After reading for a bit, Remus turned out the light and turned over in his bed. Somehow, Sirius managed to get some sleep that night. In the morning, Hope had already left for work and Lyall had left a note about a job a few hours away. 

“Looks like we’re on our own,” said Remus, grinning at him. “We can take the bus to the beach, but we can come back whenever you like.”

Sirius shrugged. “I don’t mind spending all day there, if that’s what you want.”

Remus packed a rucksack with canteens full of water, several cheese and cress sandwiches, and a few books. He coated his pale skin in sunblock, and Sirius followed suit. Before they left, he lent Sirius a pair of his swim trunks to change into, and Sirius nearly turned him down. If seeing Remus’ bedroom felt intimate, then wearing a pair of his swim trunks was on another level entirely. But Remus insisted, saying that Sirius wouldn’t want to get his clothes wet. So they made their way to the bus stop wearing matching swim trunks, a fact on which Sirius tried very hard not to dwell. 

The beach was just a short bus ride away, and they’d got lucky with the weather. The sun was shining and it was actually quite warm for a British summer. Remus chose their spot, just close enough to the water without being too close. He plopped straight down on the sand and Sirius was reminded of the special blankets and umbrellas his mother had insisted on bringing to the beach. It seemed to be her mission to be at the beach without actually experiencing it. Remus rummaged in his rucksack but Sirius remained standing, staring out at the water. 

“Technically this is Swansea Bay,” Remus explained. “But, y’know, it’s basically the sea.” 

Sirius didn’t reply; he was transfixed by the water as it came in to meet the sand and rushed back out. He turned his face up to the sun and smiled. Somewhere down the beach, a small boy was splashing at the water’s edge, holding his mother’s hand and laughing gleefully. A breeze lifted the ends of Sirius’ dark hair and he sighed happily. 

“Sandwiches first or swimming first?” Remus asked him. “If we have the sandwiches, we won’t be able to get in the water for at least an hour. I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I’ve always thought it’s better to be safe than drowned. Sirius?”

“I’ve never actually been swimming,” he said. “Not really, not properly. This one year, I got away from my mother somehow and just started running toward the water. I’d barely got a toe in before my father had hauled me back out.”

Remus stood up beside him. “What’s the point of being at the beach if you’re not at least going to step in the water?”

Sirius shrugged. “Search me. I think we went because it was the thing to do. If one is at one’s summer estate, one visits the beach.”

“Well,” said Remus, toeing off his plimsolls. “That settles it. We’re swimming first, come on.”

“Oh, right,” said Sirius, bending down to unlace his boots. He knew they looked ridiculous with his borrowed swim trunks, but they were all he’d brought. He pulled them off and set them beside Remus’ rucksack, nerves bubbling in his stomach. 

Remus glanced up at the sky. “It’s sunny, but that doesn’t mean the water will be warm. It’s better if you take it at a run. Wading in just gives you more time to decide against going in. Ready?”

Before Sirius could respond, Remus was off, and he scrambled to follow him. It was easy to forget about the freezing water that awaited him. He was too focused on catching Remus, watching the movement of his shoulder blades as he pumped his arms, running for all he was worth. Then all at once he was in the water, and it was like ice. It was so cold, and so shocking, that he simply started to laugh. Remus grabbed his shoulder to avoid being swept away by a wave, and Sirius grabbed him in return. 

“This is horrible!” said Remus, and Sirius could see his teeth chattering. “But now you’ve done it!”

“Yes, and now I reckon we should go sit in the sun,” said Sirius, still laughing. 

They made their way back to their spot on the sand as quickly as they could manage, struggling against freezing waves that nipped at their ankles. Sirius collapsed beside his boots, arms flung out to either side, and caught his breath as Remus searched his rucksack for their towels. He shut his eyes for a moment, and a towel thumped against his chest. Squinting against the sun, he peered up at Remus, who was toweling off his hair and feigning innocence. His wet t-shirt clung to his chest, and his calves glistened with droplets of ocean. Sirius cleared his throat and sat up, concentrating on drying himself off. 

“You’re gonna get sand in your boots,” said Remus, smirking at him.

“Well, clearly I didn’t think this through,” said Sirius. 

After they’d dried off as much as possible, Remus handed Sirius a sandwich. They sat eating and watching the ocean, and Sirius found he couldn’t resist stealing glances at Remus. His hair was still wet, and it was sort of swept back above his ears. His legs, stretched out in front of him, were sandy and grubby, and there was a bruise on his left knee. _Now,_ Sirius thought. _Just say something now. If you’ve got it wrong, he can chuck you out and you’ll go to James’._

“You still haven’t really been swimming,” said Remus, startling Sirius as he brushed crumbs from his hands. “I bet it was much warmer at your ‘summer estate.’ If only we’d have a freak heat wave or something, then the water might feel refreshing.”

“S’alright,” said Sirius, gobbling down the last of his sandwich. “Like you said, now I’ve done it.”

“Do you want to walk around? There are some cliffs and rocks that way,” said Remus, pointing down the beach.

Sirius glanced behind him and then turned back to Remus. “Nah, let’s just sit here. You can read if you like.”

“Suit yourself,” said Remus. He grabbed a book from his rucksack and then laid down on his towel, using the rucksack as a very lumpy pillow. 

The moment had passed, and Sirius could only hope that another would come along before it was time for him to leave.

* * * * * *

The full moon fell near the end of Sirius’ first week in Wales. According to Remus, he’d told his parents that his friends knew about his condition, and they had been wary about it for several years. But they were more comfortable with it now that it seemed none of them were going to spill the beans. Obviously, they didn’t know the finer details of the incident with Snape. Dumbledore had insisted on informing them of the incident based on the arrangement that allowed Remus to attend Hogwarts. But he’d agreed to protect the identity of all other students involved. This meant that Sirius had to stomach undeserved praise over dinner the night before the full moon.

“When Remus told us that you all knew, we were terrified,” said Hope. “I mean, no offense, but we didn’t know anything about you. For all we knew, you were just waiting to shout the news from the tallest tower at Hogwarts.”

“From what Remus has said, you’ve all proven yourselves to be loyal friends,” said Lyall, smiling kindly at him. “We can’t thank you enough for that.”

Sirius cleared his throat, feeling quite uninterested in the shepherd’s pie laid before him. “None of us would ever -- well, we care about Remus very much. That makes it quite easy to keep his secret.”

“So kind,” said Hope, shaking her head and wiping at her eyes. “We didn’t imagine there was such kindness in the world.” 

Sirius gave her a strained smile and glanced over at Remus, who was concentrating on his pie. He had a horrible urge to fess up to everything, to try and explain himself all over again. But he knew that would hurt every single person at the table, so he kept quiet. Sirius volunteered to clear up after dinner, and Remus joined him at the sink while his parents went to watch television. 

“I’ve never done the dishes before,” said Sirius, the realization coming to him as he picked up a dirty plate. “Not this way or with magic.”

Remus gave him a weary look and nudged him out of the way with his hip. Sirius watched as he scrubbed the plate, rinsed it, and then thrust it toward his chest.

“You can dry,” he explained, handing him a flannel. 

“Right,” said Sirius, drawing the flannel across the wet dish, careful not to drop it. “Sorry if that was awkward, just now. I knew this would come up, what with the moon being tomorrow. Maybe I should leave?”

Remus paused, mid-scrub, and then sighed and continued to clean. “If you want, I suppose. You’ve only been here a week.”

“I’m not outstaying my welcome?” said Sirius. “Won’t it be weird to have me here for the full moon? I mean, I can’t transform and help you. I’ll just be sitting around like an idiot.” 

Remus handed him another dish. “If you want to leave, you can. I’m not going to make you stay. Only I was hoping that you’d spend tomorrow evening with my mum.”

Sirius took the dish and glanced toward the living room. “Your mum?”

“Yeah,” said Remus. “My dad takes me to the forest and spends all night keeping track of me with magic. My mum sits here biting off her fingernails with worry all night.”

“Oh,” said Sirius, unable to conjure up a clever response. He’d never given much thought to how Remus and his parents handled the full moon when he was at home. “I’ll stay. I just thought I’d be an imposition.”

Remus smiled and shook his head but said nothing. They spent the next half hour washing and drying all the dishes from dinner. After watching Remus wash a few, Sirius asked if he could try one, but Remus said his mother liked this set of china too much. As they stood together at the sink, Remus’ arm would brush against Sirius’, and Sirius found himself pretending that he needed to stand closer just for that point of contact. When they were finished, Remus clapped him on the shoulder and Sirius couldn’t help the wide grin that crossed his face. He was sure it was his imagination, but it seemed like Remus left his hand there just a bit too long. 

The next morning, Remus stayed in bed past noon. Sirius tried to wait for him to wake up, but eventually he went and had a shower. Hope had already left for work, but Lyall was sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea and reading the paper. 

“Does he sleep this late at school? On the day of the full moon, I mean?”

Sirius shook his head and sat down across from him. “He’s got to wake up for class. He’s not happy about it, mind, but he does wake up.”

When Remus did venture downstairs, his hair was a tangled mess and he seemed half asleep still. He complained of his aching bones and Lyall made him a cup of tea and some porridge. 

“Well, I think it’s a telly day. What do you say, Remus?”

Remus shrugged, seeming uninterested, but he followed Lyall when he moved to the living room. There wasn’t much on the television, from what Sirius could tell, but it was quite remarkable that Muggles had worked out how to create moving pictures without magic. Remus pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his lanky arms around them. He remained that way for much of the afternoon, just staring at the television screen. When Lyall went to the loo, Sirius leaned over and poked Remus’ knee. 

“All right?” he asked. 

Remus shrugged. “Nothing much I can do about it.”

Sirius nodded. “It just...it doesn’t seem this bad at school. Is it worse out here?”

“Not really,” Remus replied. “Mostly I just don’t let it show when we’re at school. But I think the wolf knows it won’t have its pack this time. The first time after term ends is usually pretty bad. And the first one after term begins is the easiest.”

Looking at Remus now, with his tangled hair and peaky skin, Sirius was struck by two immutable truths -- becoming an animagus was the best thing he’d ever done, and sending Snape to see the wolf was the worst. He wasn’t sure that the former outweighed the latter. It pained him that he couldn’t be there for Remus that night, couldn’t be the pack that would soothe the wolf. But he wanted to do something, so he glanced back toward the bathroom and then quickly wrapped his arms around Remus’ shoulders. He hugged him once, as tightly as he could manage, and then backed away.

When he gathered the courage to glance toward Remus, he found him staring with a strange expression on his face. “What was that for?”

Sirius shrugged. His throat felt like it was full of cotton. “I’m sorry I can’t be there tonight, to help you. And you just look so sad.”

There was an unmistakable blush standing out against the pale skin of Remus’ cheeks. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, and then turned back to the television as his dad came back into the room. Sirius wished fervently that Lyall had stayed away for just thirty seconds more. He was too preoccupied with wondering what Remus might have said to him to focus on anything they watched that afternoon. 

Hope came home from work early, just as Lyall was preparing to take Remus out to the forest. Though Sirius had seen him like this many times before -- the trembling, the soft moans of pain, the increasingly pallid complexion -- it never failed to make him feel ill with worry. He knew that by tomorrow evening Remus would be mostly back to his old self, but in these final hours before moonrise, it seemed he would never be himself again. 

“I’ll be here when you get back,” said Hope, pressing a fierce kiss to Remus’ pale, sweaty forehead. “Just remember, we love you very much.”

“Love you, mum,” Remus mumbled. His eyes flicked up to where Sirius stood, and he held his gaze for a moment before doubling over in pain. 

“Right, we need to go,” said Lyall, looping an arm around his son’s waist. “We’ll be back at dawn. Try not to worry too much, love.”

“Easier said than done,” said Hope. She leaned in to kiss her husband. “Take care of yourself.” 

With a pop, they were gone, and Sirius was left alone with Hope. She rubbed at her eyes and then pointed at him. “Hungry?”

“Not really,” said Sirius, shrugging. 

“Neither am I,” she said, miserably. “Still, a cup of tea usually helps things, eh?”

Sirius followed her into the kitchen and watched her put the kettle on. She was so unlike his own mother that he couldn’t believe the same word described them both. Where Walburga was all high collars and disapproving glares, Hope was flowing dresses and warm smiles. She was someone you could hug easily and chat to about your problems. Sirius had never once considered talking to his mother about his life; he knew she simply wasn’t interested, especially not since he’d landed himself in Gryffindor. 

“Is chamomile all right?” Hope asked, holding out a tin of tea. 

“It’s my favorite, actually,” said Sirius. 

Hope smiled at him. “Glad to hear I’ve got someone on my side. Remus and Lyall won’t touch the stuff.”

“I know,” said Sirius, chuckling. “Black tea, through and through.”

Hope set down a mug of tea in front of Sirius and sat across from him. “Do you stay up to see him the morning after?”

Sirius took a sip of his too-hot tea and reminded himself not to say anything about turning into a big black dog. “Yeah, we go and visit him in the Hospital Wing.” 

Hope nodded, chewing at her lip. “Is it bad? I always ask if he’s had a rough month, but I reckon he writes around the truth.”

“He has bad nights, sure,” said Sirius. “But I think he’s gotten used to it as well.” 

“I wish he didn’t have to,” said Hope. “I’ll never get used to it, I’m afraid. Each month I tell myself that he’ll be fine, that he’s been through it so many times before. When he’s home it’s worse, because I see it firsthand.” 

Sirius nodded and wrapped his hands around his mug. “I’m sure he appreciates having you here, though, the morning after.” 

Hope sipped her tea and was quiet for a while, staring out the window above the kitchen sink. Eventually she turned back to Sirius with a forced smile. “Have Remus and Lyall introduced you to telly yet? We could watch something, if you like. Sometimes there are interesting programs on at night.” 

“Sure,” said Sirius. “It’ll help pass the time.” 

Television was a fairly good distraction. It was easy to sit on the couch and let one program follow another. They watched several news programs, and Sirius was particularly intrigued by the weather report. There was a program about ancient Egypt, which Sirius knew nothing about, and then a film called “The Magnificent Seven.” Just before midnight, the image of a clock appeared on the screen, and the announcer gave a preview of what would be broadcast the next day. Then the clock remained, and it took Sirius a few minutes to realize that another program was not about to begin. 

Hope had fallen asleep on the couch, so Sirius curled up at his end and closed his eyes. But his mind was too preoccupied to let him sleep. As soon as they’d cracked the animagi process and were able to help Remus, as soon as Sirius saw just how much of a difference it made, he felt horrible when he couldn’t be there. This was even worse than the previous summer -- he was here, but he couldn’t help without giving away a very big and very illegal secret. 

He must have dozed off eventually, because suddenly sun was streaming into the living room and Hope was leaping off the couch. Sirius, rubbing at his eyes, followed her out into the back garden where Remus and Lyall had apparated. Lyall held Remus upright, and Sirius could see blood on his face. Hope ran to them and gingerly held Remus’ face, inspecting his scrapes and bruises. 

“He’s all right,” said Lyall. “He had a good night, but he passed out right after transforming back. Got a bit scraped up from that.”

Sirius hung back, not wanting to intrude as Lyall lowered Remus to the ground and set about healing his injuries. Hope watched nervously, fingers twitching, clearly wanting to help somehow. The broken skin above Remus’ eyebrow knitted back together and the bruise along his cheek faded. Lyall ran his wand along the length of Remus’ body, checking for other injuries. He must not have found anything because he gave Hope a little nod, pocketed his wand, and scooped Remus up off the ground.

“He’s all right, I promise,” said Lyall, as he passed Sirius. They all marched to Remus’ room, where Lyall laid him in bed and brushed his hair off his forehead.

Sirius remained in the doorway of the bedroom, not wanting to be a snoop but intrigued by the unfamiliar family dynamic. With Remus safe in bed, Lyall wrapped Hope in his arms and gave her a long hug. She took a deep, shuddering breath and kissed Lyall, murmuring something that Sirius couldn’t hear. As they turned to leave, they passed by Sirius, and Hope paused a moment. 

“You can stay with him if you like,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his shoulder. “Thanks for keeping me company last night.”

Sirius nodded. “I’m glad he’s all right.”

“Me too,” said Hope. 

When Hope and Lyall had gone, Sirius crept into the room. He shoved his mattress closer to Remus’ bed and sat at the edge. It made him feel a bit better to see Remus up close, to see that he wasn’t nearly as bruised as he’d been after other full moons. Clearly he was exhausted, but that was to be expected. If they’d been at school, Sirius would have had to leave for class. He always found it impossible to concentrate when he knew Remus was still recovering in the Hospital Wing. 

Remus slept for hours, and when he finally woke to find Sirius sitting beside him, he smiled blearily up at him. “You didn’t have to sit here all day.” 

Sirius winced at how rough his voice sounded. “I wanted to.”

Even in his exhausted state, Remus quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. But for once he didn’t argue the point. He simply let his eyes slip closed again, and Sirius watched as his breathing evened out once more.

* * * * * *

After the full moon, the days began to bleed together. They spent a few afternoons on the couch in front of the telly until Remus declared that he couldn’t stand to be inside any longer. He’d been kept there by his tired muscles, which he typically ignored so that he could get to class. During the summer, as he told Sirius, he preferred to let them rest. But there was only so much lazing around that one could stand, so they moved into the back garden.

Sirius carried out two lounge chairs from the Lupins’ shed, and they sat together in the sun. Remus read while Sirius ostensibly sunbathed. It would be closer to the truth to say that Remus read and Sirius watched him. He tried his best to be discreet, but Remus often caught him and returned his gaze with a questioning smile. Sirius simply shrugged and looked away, wishing each time that the sun would swallow him up. 

Near the end of the week, they took the bus to Swansea because Remus wanted Sirius to see the city. It was nothing like London, of course, but it had its own charm. They got off the bus and walked a few blocks to a fish and chips shop. Remus bought them lunch, all wrapped up in newspaper, and they sat by the marina to eat. Then Remus led him to a bookshop that had no discernible organization. Even the shelves were made of mismatched woods, some light and some dark. Sirius followed Remus around the shop as he stared intently at the stacks, eyes roving up and down.

“This is one of my favorite places in the city,” said Remus, plucking a slim volume down from a high shelf and flipping it open to the first page. 

“Of course it is,” said Sirius. “It even smells like you in here.”

“Is that a good thing?” said Remus, smiling but still staring down at the book. 

“Yeah, sure,” said Sirius, shrugging. “You definitely don’t smell as rank as James after Quidditch practice.”

“A fairly low bar,” said Remus. He snapped the book shut and placed it back on its shelf. 

Remus bought a book by Christopher Isherwood and they stepped back out into the sun. They walked along the marina, and Sirius kept his hands shoved into his pockets. If he didn’t, the urge to grab Remus’ hand might be too difficult to resist. 

“I’d like to show you London someday,” he said, staring out at the boats. 

“I’ve seen London,” said Remus. “I’ve been to King’s Cross, and to Diagon Alley.”

“Nah, I mean a different London,” said Sirius. “I guess I don’t really know London either, but I’m going to, someday. I want to live there after school, but far away from fucking Grimmauld Place. I’d like to experience it with you.”

“It always seems so loud there, so stuffed to the gills,” said Remus. “But I might like it if you were my tour guide.”

This was another moment; Sirius could practically taste the possibility in the air. Remus stared at him for a long time, with a gentle smile and soft eyes. But Sirius couldn’t make his mouth work, couldn’t make his tongue form the words. What could he say? How could he explain the inside of his brain without sounding like an idiot? In the end, he let the moment pass, and they went to buy ice creams. 

Sirius’ final day in Wales arrived far too quickly. It was a Saturday, and Hope and Lyall suggested that they all go to the beach. Remus seemed jittery as they packed up their things and assembled a small hamper for lunch. Sirius didn’t want to question him lest he rattle him even more, but he privately hoped this was the moment. They’d have a lovely day at the seaside, and Remus would say something to him or corral him into a secret spot on the beach. He would do something to resolve this unbearable tension and, in so doing, release Sirius from the pressure to do something about it. 

Hope and Lyall set up a large umbrella near the spot Remus had chosen before, though there wasn’t much sun to speak of. Much of the substance of a British summer was in the pretending, to fool oneself into thinking the beach you were visiting more closely resembled beaches you’d read about or seen in films. As it was, the sky was quite grey and a chill wind was blowing in off the bay. Sirius still enjoyed himself, discussing the most recent episode of “Coronation Street” with Lyall and asking Remus about his book. 

As the afternoon wore on, Sirius noticed that Hope and Lyall kept murmuring between themselves. It was the secret, conspiratorial discussion of parents. At Grimmauld Place, this discussion generally meant that someone was in trouble. He couldn’t imagine that was the case now, so he forced himself to calm down and ignore them. 

“I think we’re going to head home,” said Lyall, making Sirius jump. “Would you boys like to stay behind?”

Sirius looked at Remus, whose jitters had been replaced by annoyance, and he couldn’t work out why. He gave him a hopeful smile, eyebrows raised. Remus stared out at the sea, and then looked up at his dad. 

“Yeah, all right,” he said.

“Then we’ll see you back at home,” said Lyall. “Sirius, the Potters have arranged a portkey to be ready precisely at noon.”

“Also, the last bus back is at ten o’clock,” said Hope. 

“Thanks,” said Remus. “We’ll see you later, then.” 

Hope and Lyall waved to them and walked up the beach, heading in the direction of the bus stop. Remus turned back to his book straight away, and Sirius took a few moments to consider why he was suddenly alone on the beach with Remus, who seemingly didn’t want to talk to him. 

“Right,” he said. “So, something’s wrong.”

Remus turned a page in his book. “What makes you say that?”

“Don’t be an asshole, I can tell when something’s wrong.”

“Oh, because you’re so perceptive?”

Sirius sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Remus, can we not do this? I’ve spent enough time with you mad at me, and at least then I knew what I’d done.” 

“This is so stupid,” said Remus, shutting his book. “I should have asked mum and dad to stay.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I asked them to leave in the first place. Back at the house, I asked them to leave us alone this afternoon.” Remus dug his finger into the sand and made zig-zagging patterns between himself and Sirius. “I wanted to talk to you about something. Or I thought I did, I don’t know.”

Sirius froze -- this could be it. _Of course,_ his brain chimed in, _he could want to talk to you about girls or some nonsense._ Maybe there was someone else, someone in town, and he was hoping to get Sirius’ advice. That would be awkward to talk about with your parents in earshot, obviously. The thought that he might have misread the situation -- and all the situations that caused James to grin smugly at him -- stopped him from filling in the blanks that Remus was leaving.

“I guess…” Remus trailed off and stared down at his book, creasing one edge of the cover and then bending it back into place. He glanced up at Sirius, eyes bright. “Have you...we’ve had a good time together this year, haven’t we?”

Sirius didn’t know what to make of this. He thought he’d made it perfectly clear that he enjoyed their evenings spent on the Astronomy Tower. Why else would he keep coming back? “Yeah, of course. I’m...I’m really glad we’ve been able to rebuild our friendship.”

Remus stared at him, shook his head, and stood up suddenly. Sirius, worried that he was about to run off, stood up alongside him. They were too close, they were nearly touching. 

“I thought...I don’t know what I was expecting,” said Remus. “I just, I thought something might happen if I invited you here for the summer. Nothing was happening at school, obviously. So I thought a change of scenery might help things along. But I’m an idiot, obviously.”

Sirius swallowed down his nerves. They were nearly there, if Remus would just take that extra step and give him permission. “What did you want to happen?”

Remus chewed his lip, his eyes tired. “Nothing. Just forget it.”

Now he did walk away, back up the beach, and the sight of him leaving finally spurred Sirius into action. He sprinted after him, but Remus’ long legs kept him one step ahead. They were approaching the cliffs that lined the beach, and Sirius could see a dozen little spots where they could hide from their fellow British beach pretenders. He pushed himself forward and caught up with Remus, grabbed at his wrist, and pulled him behind some rocks. Remus stared at him, confused and hopeful all at once. Sirius drew him close to press their lips together. 

Remus yielded immediately, hands coming up to rest on Sirius’ back, and Sirius knew he’d made the right move. Remus tasted like lemonade and the ham sandwiches his parents had packed. After a moment or two, Remus pulled back, gasping and staring at Sirius in disbelief. 

“Is this all right?” Sirius asked. 

“God, yes,” said Remus. “I just needed to catch my breath.” 

Sirius began to laugh, but the noise was muffled as Remus pulled him into another kiss. This time, Sirius threaded his fingers into Remus’ hair, as he’d wanted to do for months. The kiss seemed to stretch on for ages, and when they broke apart again, Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius, keeping him close. 

“This is really embarrassing,” said Sirius. “But I’ve wanted to touch your hair since, like, January.”

Remus smiled fondly at him. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Me?” Sirius spluttered. “You just said you invited me here hoping something would happen. _You_ could have said something, you know.” 

Remus bit his lip. “I was worried it was all in my head. I mean, I thought all those nights on the Astronomy Tower were just you trying to make it up to me. The Snape thing, I mean.”

Sirius nodded. “It started off that way. But then it was just you and me, spending time together, and I started feeling things.”

“Hmm, those pesky feelings,” said Remus. 

There was just something about the way he said it. Normally, Sirius would have soaked up the words and stewed in them for ages. But now they’d moved past that, now he had permission. So he pushed Remus against the rocks and snogged him with everything he had. When Remus let out a little moan, Sirius doubled his efforts, overjoyed at the fact that he could do this again tomorrow, and the next day, and for as long as they were both interested. 

Eventually, Remus pulled back and complained that the rocks were digging into his spine. They sat down on the sand instead, limbs all tangled up, with time slipping past until the sun was beginning to set. 

“The real tragedy,” said Sirius, leaning close for a few quick kisses. “Is that I leave for James’ house tomorrow.”

“Well, that’s easily fixed,” said Remus. “I’ll just come with you to James’ place.”

“Will your parents let you?” Sirius asked. 

“I rather think so,” said Remus. “I mean, I’ve sort of brought them into this now. They’ll be quite glad we’ve worked things out.”

“Hang on,” said Sirius, frowning. “You told your parents you fancy me before you even told _me?_”

“It’s important to have co-conspirators,” said Remus, smirking at him. “And I couldn’t tell James or Peter because neither of them could’ve kept it a secret.”

“I’ll grant you that,” said Sirius. “All the same, I think you’re going to find a very smug James when we get to Devonshire. Depending on how public we’re going to make this.”

“Hmm,” said Remus. “I say we keep him guessing. It’s more fun that way.” 

“Devious,” said Sirius, appreciatively. “Shall we see who can hold out the longest?”

Remus raised one eyebrow at him. “Do you really want to be up against me in that challenge?”

“I dunno, it seems like I kept you guessing long enough,” said Sirius.

“Ah, but I think you’ll want to tell James.” 

“I just won’t think about it.”

“How do you plan on doing that, when I’m snogging you at every possible moment? I’m sure the Potters’ estate has some truly great spots for snogging.”

“Bollocks,” said Sirius. “Fine, you win -- better to work as a united front.” 

“I told you,” said Remus. “Co-conspirators.”

Sirius leaned in for another kiss and found that he had to agree. The two of them stayed there, conspiring in the hidden bit of beach until they nearly missed the last bus. As they sprinted back to the street, Remus grabbed Sirius’ hand and laced their fingers together. Sirius grinned at him, a comfortable warmth flooding his chest, more than making up for the British summer weather.


End file.
